


Flower Power

by Severina



Category: Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Community: hc_bingo, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-10
Updated: 2013-11-10
Packaged: 2018-01-01 01:28:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1038703
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Severina/pseuds/Severina
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Of all the things he expected, for Daryl to looks up at him and grin lazily, slowly, <i>seductively</i>… yeah, that was way at the bottom of the list.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Flower Power

**Author's Note:**

> Written for LJ's hc_bingo for the prompt "sex pollen"
> 
> * * *

"Huh," Daryl says.

Glenn looks up from where he's been dropping seeds in the dirt for the past thirty-seven minutes – not that he's been repeatedly checking his watch or anything – to find Daryl hunkered back on his haunches, head tilted quizzically to the side. Part of him wants to just ignore the dude, because Daryl's _always_ stopping to remark over a beetle or a weevil or a grasshopper and really, once you've seen one bug you've seen them all. But the sun's beating down like a son of a bitch and Glenn's also spent most of the past thirty-seven minutes deeply regretting ever suggesting in council that they all take regular shifts working in the garden, so a distraction could be a nice change. 

A different kind of distraction than the one he's been getting by watching Daryl's ass, anyway.

"What is it?" he calls out.

Daryl glances up, squints over at him. "Flower," he says. He leans back, and Glenn can see the bright yellow bloom nestled among the cabbage leaves. "Ain't never seen one like this, though."

Any excuse to stand up and briefly stop the repetitive cycle of _scoop dirt, drop seed, cover with dirt_ is a good one, so Glenn pushes himself up off the ground, steps over the rows of seedlings to stand over the flower. It looks like a typical plant to him, nothing spectacular. He shrugs. "Pretty," he says.

"Guess so," Daryl says noncommittally. He leans over to sniff at the bloom, and if Glenn hadn't bent down to wipe his filthy hands on his jeans at that exact moment he wouldn't have seen the way Daryl's eyes suddenly rolled back in his head or the way Daryl's hand reflexively gripped at the ground. 

When Daryl shudders once, convulsively, Glenn starts mentally reviewing all the photos of plants from the medical books that Hershel's been on them to memorize, all the poisonous varieties that Daryl's pointed out on supply runs. Nothing like the bright yellow bloom comes to mind, and anyway, Daryl would never have taken a whiff if he knew there was something wrong with the plant. 

"Daryl?" 

Of all the things he expected, for Daryl to looks up at him and grin lazily, slowly, _seductively_ … yeah, that was way at the bottom of the list.

Glenn gulps. "Uh. Daryl?" he tries again.

"Hey," Daryl drawls. Despite the relaxed, laid-back tone, he's on his feet before Glenn can blink, leaning into him. "Let's fuck."

"What?"

Glenn takes a step back but Daryl follows, not giving him any room to maneuver. 

"Whoa," Glenn says. "Whoa whoa whoa! What the hell, dude?"

"C'mon," Daryl says. "You know you want to."

"You said," Glenn hisses, pushing away a questing hand and darting a quick, nervous look over at Rick and Bob still bent over their own rows in the field, "you SAID we weren't going to do this anymore!"

"That was a dumb idea," Daryl says, totally stepping into his personal space to nuzzle at his neck. Glenn scoots back, trips over his own feet and nearly goes down in a tangle of limbs in the middle of the tomato plants, but Daryl's arm darts out quickly, snags him and pulls him in close. So close that he can feel Daryl's heart beating double-time against his chest, feel Daryl's interest pressed thickly against his thigh. Daryl's arm is firm and solid around his waist, Daryl's beard tickling at his throat as he leans in to suck at the skin of his neck, and Glenn's only human. He can't control his body's reactions. And God, he's missed this – Daryl's arms wrapped around him, the smell of his skin, the feel of his teeth nipping playfully at tender flesh. 

"You okay over there, Glenn?" Rick calls out.

Glenn blinks and squirms out of the embrace, stumbles back and tramples one of the cabbage plants. He looks down at his feet, and that's when he spots it. That's when he knows. "Oh shit," he breathes out. "It's the flower."

"What?" Rick yells. 

"It's the flower," Glenn shouts back, waving frantically toward the bright yellow bloom. He dances back when Daryl makes another spirited swipe at him, looks around in time to see that Rick has put down his trowel, that he and Bob are picking their way through the rows to reach him. They're moving fast, but Daryl's faster. In the space of a heartbeat Glenn finds his back crushed firmly against Daryl's chest, Daryl's hot breath on his neck sending quivers down his spine. 

He closes his eyes briefly – not quite sure if he's reveling in the sensation or praying for strength – and opens them in time to see Rick frowning as he bends down toward the flower.

"Don't!" he shouts. "Rick, don't touch… DARYL WOULD YOU JUST…. I think it's some kind of… DARYL, STOP IT FOR ONE SECOND… some kind of aphrodisiac!"

Rick steps back so fast his boots send up little plumes of dirt, a fact that Glenn is shocked to discover he can still notice with the shivery, really quite distracting sensation of Daryl's talented mouth sucking on his earlobe. Daryl's already working on his belt, one hand struggling with the buckle while the other slides underneath his T-shirt to tweak at a nipple, and Glenn knows he's quick and wiry, but Daryl's got brute strength on his side and he's only going to be able to hold the guy off for so long. If he doesn't get this under control he's going to end up bare-assed in the middle of the asparagus plants. He could call out to Rick and Bob, get them to pull Daryl off him, but…

"Glenn?" Rick calls out haltingly. 

"Love you," Daryl murmurs against his ear. "Gotta fuck you."

That decides it. "It's okay," he shouts back, slapping at the hand that is trying doggedly to make its way into his pants. He looks around, spots the guard tower and manages to stumble a few steps toward it, one hand holding up his loosened jeans and Daryl hanging on his body like a clinging, very determined, extremely handsy vine. "We'll be fine, just… DARYL, WHOA, HOLY SHIT… just keep everyone out!"

They make it as far as the steps.

* * *

"What the hell?"

Glenn looks over to find Daryl blinking in the moonlight, his brow furrowed. He holds up the remains of his clothes, starts to sit up and then winces in pain. "Ow. What the fuck?"

"Please, _you're_ saying Ow? I'm the one who's been…" Glenn starts, stops abruptly when he realizes that Daryl is staring at him in confusion. Despite everything they've been doing for the past few hours – and that basically includes everything they've ever done in the past, everything Glenn had done with his pre-apocalypse boyfriends, and a few things he'd only ever seen when he was fifteen and swiped his dad's credit card for that online subscription – Glenn still has the urge to cover up at that naked, raw look in Daryl's eyes. At least he'd managed to get both of their pants back on before he passed out. He shifts so that his body is hidden slightly more in the shadows instead, forces himself not to cross his arms at his chest. "What do you remember?" he asks.

Daryl blinks again, drops the ripped shirt into his lap and presses his lips together. "Was weedin' the damn cabbage plants, 'cause of your bright idea," he says. "Got better things to do than play Farmer Brown."

"Okay," Glenn says. "And then?"

Daryl scrubs at his chin, tilts his head back. "That flower. Jesus, felt like I got a bolt right between the eyes. Then—" He looks at Glenn suddenly, eyes wide and panicked, hand flying out to grip Glenn's arm. "Did I make you? Did I—"

"No!" Glenn says quickly. 

"Fuck, did I _force_ you—"

"Daryl!" Glenn says. "You didn't. Believe me, we could have stopped you if we had to." He's not entirely sure it's true – or at least, he's not sure what would have happened to Daryl if they had tried – but in the end it doesn't matter anyway. He made the choice to roll with it, and the reassurance makes Daryl release the vice-grip on his arm, takes away some of the horror from his eyes. "You didn't do anything I didn't want you to do."

Daryl leans back against the wall, swipes a shaking hand through his beard. "Jesus Christ. I'm sorry."

Glenn shakes his head. "It's probably me that owes you the apology, Daryl. You were the one out of control, so I should have been the one to stop it. But I didn't. Because… because I miss it. I miss your hands on me. Fuck, I miss you." He waves a hand in the air when Daryl opens his mouth. "You said a lot of stuff today, maybe you'll remember it and maybe you won't, it doesn't matter. I know it was just the flower, the lust pollen, whatever the hell it was that got in your head. I just want you to know that I'm not gonna be following you around like a dog in heat after this. It was just this one time – or, well, really like six times – and it was because of extenuating circumstances so—"

"I miss you, too."

"You… do?"

"An' I remember everything I said," Daryl says.

"I… you don't have to—"

"Meant every word."

Glenn doesn't know when he started moving toward the centre of the platform; isn't sure when Daryl slid across the creaking boards. He only knows that they meet in the middle, and the kiss is slow and leisurely and reminds him of sneaking into the RV or finding a soft, fragrant field of grass in the middle of the woods, of taking their sweet unhurried time with lips and tongue. Of discovering themselves and each other all over again.

He licks his lips when they part. "So we're—"

"Yeah."

"Okay," Glenn says. He knows there are discussions to be had, things to be worked out. He knows Daryl still has his issues, and they're going to have to work through them. But for the first time, he feels confident that they can. 

He presses another quick kiss to Daryl's lips. But when he leans back again, he grimaces. "Okay," he says again. "But just so you know, you're not going to touch me again for at least a week."

Daryl smiles. "Worth the wait."


End file.
